


Good Graces

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2019 [45]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Arguments, Established Relationship, M/M, Mending Fences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Hajime is pissed at Wakatoshi for something he admits he did until he finds out the real reason he did it. Then he feels like a jackass. Hopefully, his live-in boyfriend is up for a good old fashioned groveling session.





	Good Graces

“I can’t believe you thought that was even remotely okay to do!” Hajime rakes his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands so he can concentrate on something — literally anything — other than the now-useless bus ticket sitting on the kotatsu. 

Next to him on the couch, Wakatoshi sits with his back ramrod straight staring off into the depths of their very small but homey apartment. “It’s not safe to travel in this weather. I know you want to visit your family, but I think they would prefer you make it back in one piece.”

Hajime buries his face in his hands, sighing heavily. “I know you think you mean well, but that’s not up to you.” He pushes to his feet and toward the duffel bag sitting next to the door, waiting for him to return home for their New Year’s break from their college in Tokyo. 

A snowstorm is currently barreling down on the northern parts of Japan, and Sendai in particular is already half buried. It’s certainly a city without the infrastructure designed to deal with that much snow, and a large portion of the city has ground to a halt. 

But he misses his mom and his brother, damn it, and Wakatoshi went one step too far when he called the transit office to cancel Hajime’s ticket. 

So Hajime tugs on his coat and tosses his bag over his shoulder. Casting one last look at Wakatoshi’s rigid form, Hajime says, “I’m still going home. I’m sorry you don’t like it, but it’s not your job to make those kinds of decisions for me. That’s not how thing thing works, and I think you know that.”

Wakatoshi doesn’t meet his gaze, and it leaves a sick twist in the pit of Hajime’s gut. Groaning, he drops his bag and goes over to the couch and plants a kiss on Wakatoshi’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a week. Offer’s still open to go with me, even if I’m mad as hell right now. We’ll talk abou this later.”

Shaking his head, Wakatoshi leaves the room, probably to do pushups like he usually does when he’s frustrated. No goodbye, no safe journey, no anything. 

Maybe they’re both mad at each other, and Hajime doesn’t like leaving with that lingering between them at all.

The bus station is crowded, full of travelers both coming and going, their lines delayed or canceled entirely due to the weather. People in the south have no tolerance for snow, he thinks to himself. A few flakes fall and they all lose their damn minds.

But he waits his turn at the counter to hopefully re-reserve his ticket on the same line, or at least for one going in the same direction sometime soon. The same seat isn’t available and he isn’t surprised, but a bus is set to leave northbound at six in the morning. It’s eleven right now, so he’ll be joining the crush of stranded travelers waiting for their turn to depart.

Putting in his earbuds, Hajime budges up against a wall, next to a garbage can because there’s nowhere else available, and lets the familiar din of his favorite rock band shut out the station, the mass of humanity closing in on him, and especially fighting with Wakatoshi before leaving for an entire week.

One thing he’s learned in the two years they’ve gotten to know each other in college and the sixteen months they’ve lived together, it’s that Wakatoshi thinks through everything he does almost without fail. He leaves the toilet seat down because he knows Hajime is mostly blind in the morning when he stumbles into the bathroom without his contacts. When he cooks, he makes just enough for them to eat dinner and then take a bento each for lunch the next day and he never makes something that doesn’t taste good cold.

So this thoughtful guy who never leaps before he looks has decided that he knows what’s good for Hajime better than he himself does, and Hajime is more disturbed by that than anything.

He can’t sleep, of course. A combination of too much Red Bull and anxiety over leaving things like he is with Wakatoshi keeps him too wired for that. Without anything better to do, he closes his eyes and pretends that he’s home. Not in Sendai — he’ll be there soon enough — but in their apartment, wrapped around each other to ward off the cold or talking about their days over their pillows or standing in the kitchen shoulder to shoulder cooking together.

Anything but this.

He falls into a fitful sleep, and he awakens every thirty minutes or so either with a crick in his neck, an ache in his back, or a stranger’s foot slamming into his ankle. 

More than once, he picks up his phone and almost-calls Wakatoshi. Whether he wants to apologize, demand an apology, or just talk to him like everything is normal again, Hajime isn’t sure. But he doesn’t, and Wakatoshi doesn’t call him, either.

During one fitful bout of sleep, something nudges his foot, and under his breath, Hajime mutters, “Learn to walk. Jesus.” He doesn’t open his eyes because with his brain as bogged down as it is, all strangers look alike to him at the moment: suitcases with legs.

However, the nudge repeats and harder this time. Hajime blindly waves his foot to fend off the unwanted contact, but the third time, he can’t stop himself from pushing to his feet to glare down the asshole who can’t leave him alone for one damn minute. 

His eyes widen when he sees two familiar faces. “Mom? Ryou?”

Hajime’s mother Rino, as well as his younger brother Ryouta, are standing in front of him, bundled up against the cold and toting overstuffed travel bags. “What are you guys doing here?”

Rino frowns at Hajime, smoothing her thumb over the sunken skin around his eyes, probably sprouting bags of their own from his terrible night of not-sleep. “Wakatoshi-kun sent us tickets as soon as the storms started coming toward town. He thought we could use a break from the weather.”

“He did?” The events of the last twelve hours whirl around in his brain. Wakatoshi casually telling him his bus ticket was canceled, the fight, the long night wishing there was something he could do to make this night unhappen . . . it all seems so stupid now. Almost as stupid as he is. “Oh my god.”

Hajime drops back against the wall and bangs his head over and over. “I am such an asshole.”

“Your words, not mine,” Ryou jokes, but it goes unacknowledged. He amends, “You guys had a fight, didn’t you?”

Slapping his hands over his face, Hajime admits, “Something like that. It’s more like I yelled at him for canceling my ticket and left him there alone. I thought he was just being a control freak.”

Rino smacks him in the arm. “No, you idiot! He did it because I told him to. I wanted to surprise you and you could get some of your money back.”

“God, I feel like a jerk. Even if he had done it for the reasons he said, I should’ve thought about how he would feel, or at least heard him out.”

“Yes, you should’ve.” Rino plants her fists on her hips.

“I should call him.”

“Right again.”

“Oh, man, I’m never going to stop apologizing for this.” He sags against the wall and groans. “Now I get to play the Russian roulette version of ‘he loves me, he loves me not’.”

Ryou yawns loudly and picks up both his and Rino’s bags. “Nah, dude, you’re fine. Waka-san likes you more than Tooru-san does.”

“He’s right, sweetie.” Rino throws an arm around Hajime’s shoulders and gives him a hearty squeeze. “Wakatoshi-kun really loves you. He may not say it much, but he does.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hajime lets out a yawn of his own before he gathers up his things. “Let’s go home.”

An hour and a long taxi ride later, they arrive at the doorstep of the very building he had stormed out of what seems like forever ago. “Oh, this is going to suck.”

“Just don’t break up until we leave or it’ll be weird,” Ryou says, and Rino slaps him in the back of the head.

They take the elevator because the stairs are too daunting after such a trying night, and his hands are shaking as he fishes for his keys from his bag. When he opens the door to their unit, Hajime’s heart drops when he sees what awaits him. 

Wakatoshi is balled up on the couch, something he never does and doesn’t like to do, staring out into the room wide awake. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from nothing in particular, even when Hajime sits on the edge of the kotatsu in front of him.

“Hey, can we talk?” He doesn’t answer, and Hajime swallows hard. Wakatoshi isn’t a talkative guy, but he never refuses to speak unless he’s too angry not to say something blunt or nasty. It’s certainly in the realm of possibility, something Hajime won’t say he doesn’t deserve. “Wakatoshi, just — please come to bed. We can do this later, okay?”

His only response is Wakatoshi’s wooden expression as he hefts himself off the couch and heads for the bedroom without giving Hajime a second glance. Rino gives Hajime a tight smile as he follows. However, he stops when he sees two bedrolls on the far side of the kotatsu, waiting for their guests.

In their bedroom, Wakatoshi silently sheds his clothes and climbs into bed as far from the middle as possible. He has his back to Hajime and makes no move to change that fact. Hajime gives him his space and keeps to his own side, no matter how much he wants to curl up against Wakatoshi like he always does on cold nights like these. 

Lying on his back, Hajime offers a quiet, “Mom told me what she asked you to do. I should’ve given you a chance to explain yourself.”

“That would’ve been nice.” The stalemate is finally broken, but the ice in Wakatoshi’s voice makes Hajime miss it already.

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” Hajime whips back the covers and paces back and forth in the room, fingers flexing agitated at his sides. “This sucks. I popped off like a dumb son of a bitch without trusting you, and you are a really shitty liar. I know that, you know I know that, and you still let me yell at you. You sat there and let me say all of that, and then you stewed in it all night.”

Wakatoshi rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it fucking does!” Hajime climbs onto the bed and straddles Wakatoshi’s lap, planting his hands on either side of Wakatoshi’s head. He leans down until their faces are not even a hand’s breadth apart. “Now you listen to me, you gigantic asshole. I love you and you love me, and I know both of us regret what went down. You’re mad at me. Believe me, I get why.

“Yell at me, call me names, whatever makes you feel better, but don’t do this.” His voice cracks. “Please don’t shut me out.”

At last, Wakatoshi meets his gaze. “You actually believed I would do something like that to you. All you had to do was trust me for six hours.”

“I know.” Hajime presses his forehead against Wakatoshi and lets out a shuddering breath. “It sounds stupid when you say it out loud like that. What can I do to fix this?”

Wakatoshi cups Hajime’s cheeks and chuckles. “For now, I suggest we start with sleep.” He brushes their lips together and gives the barest hint of a smile. “You don’t want to be dead on your feet all day tomorrow with your family in town.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hajime flops onto his own side of the bed. A great weight lifts off of his chest when Wakatoshi holds up an arm for him to burrow into. “We good?”

Tucking Hajime into his side, Wakatoshi murmurs sleepily, “We will be.”

With that, Wakatoshi is out like a light, and Hajime drifts off himself with a smile on his face and peace in his heart.


End file.
